


The colors of the crown Part II

by Ava626



Series: The borrowed crown series [2]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Friendship/Love, Frustration, Hurt/Comfort, Marriage Proposal
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-01
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2018-09-27 14:48:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 23,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10026554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ava626/pseuds/Ava626
Summary: Fili and Sigrid, still not together.....This part corresponds with Part II of the Crown series ( A crown, if it hurts us, is not worth wearing)





	1. Green

Kili. Fili sighed while thinking of his younger brother. He had always been able to enjoy the perks of being royalty. Even when their kind of royalty hadn’t meant anything yet, the girls had still found them interesting. Heirs to the fabled fortune of Erebor, prime members of the line of Durin, sister-sons to king Thorin Oakenshield.

Kili had coined the attention, his days off were filled with girls while Fili had had to sit with his uncle and Balin, studying the lives of the kings of yore, learning from their wins and losses. He didn’t mind it back then; him working to become the perfect heir gave Kili the chance to be the man he wanted to be.

Even now, now that Kili still filled his days with girls and fun and Fili was the one that had to help his uncle with his responsabilities, he did not mind. He would work harder, behave better, all so Kili wouldn’t have to.

But now the thick-headed troll had gone too far. And this time it was not just some angry father complaining to Thorin about Kili defiling his daughter. This time it was king Thranduil and his favorite prodigee was pregnant.

That wasn’t the worst of it, no, the worst of it was that Kili was going to marry Tauriel. Tauriel, a whole, full-blooded elf. Which meant that their child would only be a half-dwarf and would not be eligable for the throne of Erebor. And since Emma did not give Thorin any children yet, one of them would have to get children that would be more than half dwarven.

And after all his sacrifice, Fili had hoped it would not be him. That he and Sigrid would have as many children as she liked, and none of them would have to bear the strain of being in line for the throne.

Fili looked at the little wooden box sitting on the table. He had spent many hours carving it just right, with flowery patterns instead of the rectangular lines he was used to, for it was to carry a gift for her, a gift that he hoped would persuade her to allow him to start courting her. A gift he had made himself.

And now, instead of a start of something, he would ask for her patience, for her to delay her decision and hope, pray, that Emma would be his savior.

So when Thorin raged and fumed at his brother, Fili, for the first time ever, did not do anything to help Kili, to share the burden of his uncle’s anger. Instead, he sat in his chambers and drank untill he could no longer think or feel.


	2. Blue

The days after her ball had passed in a haze of hope, excitement, doubt and hesitation. She spent her time sitting in the windowsill, pretending to embroiden a pillowcase, but in reality just holding the needle and the fabric while staring out of the window.

The first day she wondered if he would come alone, or if perhaps he would bring his uncle or his brother to talk to her father. The more she thought about it, the more it seemed unlikely that he would just bring his brother. A marriage between the heirs of two kingdoms would surely not be arraged by just a prince. No, she was certain that king Thorin himself would also come. And so  she looked for signs of the monarch and his retinue crossing the plane between Erebor and Dale.

The second day she took her spot in the window sill again, now dressed in her second best dress, as she had worn her best the day before. Staring over the healing land between the two kingdoms, she wondered how life in Erebor would be like. She had never been there, but she had heard stories that the stone that looked so dark from afar, had a jade green shade over it, and iluminated beautifully in the light.

Sigrid sighed and pulled the silk thread through the delicate fabric a few more times to at least seem like she was doing something instead of daydreaming, but her thoughts wandered away again. What would Fili’s family be like? She had thought Emma was really intimidating, but perhaps that had been because she had wanted to be like her. When she had actually met her she had been really kind. Would she see her a lot in Erebor? But if she saw Emma a lot, then she would probably also see king Thorin a lot. All the times she had met the king, he had struck her as  serious, dour and sometimes even grumpy man, so she did not really look forward to spending a lot of time in his company. But perhaps he was different in a more informal setting, after all, he had helped raise Fili so he could not be all that bad. And Fili’s mother, what would she be like?

The night of the second day a small seed of doubt was starting to grow within Sigrid’s mind, but she quelled it with her rational thinking, as she always did. It was too early for him to come yet. He had to speak with his uncle, get all the plans and permissions in place. So she waited, impatiently. Yet weeds tend to grow where they shouldn’t, seemingly going under and around all hindrances and obstacles. And so did Sigrid’s doubt; slowly, almost invisably, invading her mind untill it came to the surface after two weeks.

There were no more tasks, major or minor, to distract her. She had cleaned all the private chambers of the palace, only skipping the public ones out of fear that someone might see her and think badly about het father, she had embroided several pillows that she knew would just end up in a corner somewhere, and she had made Tilda six new dresses. And then there was nothing but emptiness in her life, and nothing else to do but wait.

Why hadn’t he come yet? At her ball, he had seemed so genuine, so honest in his feelings towards her, but now he had stood her up, and it hurt like nothing else had before.

 

X-O-X-O

One week later, on a warm afternoon in which the blue of the sky was unbroken by any trace of clouds, he was announced. It was just her luck, she thought, that when he finally came, she was not wearing one of her pretty dresses, but an old one she used for working in the garden. She tried to wipe the mud that inevitably came with planting seeds, off her hands and dress, but it didn’t work very well. Nothing to do about it though, as he already walked up to her, his hands nervously fiddling with a small box in his hands.

She should have known, she told herself afterwards, that him coming by himself was a sign, yet in the moment she didn’t see it, only inviting him to come sit with her on a bench in the garden with a big and welcomign smile on her face.

They skipped the proper greetings and curtesies that usually came with their meetings, both too wrapped up in their nerves, untill he broke the tense silence.

“My brother is getting married.” He said bluntly, still playing with the box in his hands and not looking at her.

Normally such an announcement would be cause for celebration, but from the look on his face and his sullen tone of voice she knew it somehow wasn’t.

“To Tauriel. You know, the elf from the Mirkwood.” He continued, and she nodded. Why would that be so bad? Would it not pave the way for them to marry, as his uncle already allowed an elf to marry into the royal family of Erebor?

Fili then finally looked at her, and saw her confusion. He scraped his throat and chewed his lip a bit. “My uncle’s wife still isn’t pregnant, and as an heir has to be more than half dwarven---“ His voice trailed off, but she knew enough. Kili was having a child that was only half dwarven, and if king Thorin didn’t have children, Fili would have to be the one to provide the next heir. And that couldn’t be with her. She wasn’t good enough; she wasn’t a dwarf. No matter how much their races worked together, she would always be different to them, always the outsider, always less.

A lone tear rolled down her cheek without her knowing, and with surprising tenderness for one with such rough hands, Fili wiped it away.

“I’m sure it will all end up just fine, we just—just need to have a little patience untill Emma—you know.”

Sigrid could only nod, though she wasnt convinced by his mumbled words. How could her faith lie so clearly in the ability of someone else to have children? While she was trying not to scream out at this unfairness, she felt Fili putting the box in her lap.

“A sign of my intentions, Sig.” He said, and she grabbed on to his hand tightly, wanting to keep him instead of his gift. How could he be replaced by some piece of jewelry?

X-O-X-O

 

That night, when Bain adn Tilda had already gone to sleep, she sat next to her da by the fire, the both of them staring into the flames, and she cuddled up to him and rested her head on his shoulder, silently crying for the things in life she wanted so badly but did not get. Bard had no idea what it was about, but his hands softly stroking her head were comforting nonetheless.


	3. Silver

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another viewpoint on chapter 4 (Of one and One's) of 'A crown, if it hurts us, is not worth wearing'
> 
> This is the second chapter I've posted tonight, so if you haven't read the previous one, please do that first :)

Ever since her ball, more borrowed times had followed just like they had before his brother had gotten married. Tea during a break in treaty meetings, impromptu rendez-vous when he was in town, but never more than that. Never an official meeting, never when their familymembers were around, and never a word on what might perhaps come to exist between them.

They both felt it, but somehow the idea was still too delicate to be spoken about, as if the tiny threads of hope would break if marriage was actually discussed outloud.

What was discussed were the men that came to her father, asking for her hand. Sometimes they would joke about it, if the suitor was old, had terrible personal hygiene or weird habits. But sometimes she spoke more serious, and it was in those moments that his heart skipped a beat, for he felt the fear she had about her father agreeing to one of the proposals.

When some horse lord from Rohan came, she became even more silent. He had set up a chance meeting, as he could find no official reason for visiting and he desperately wanted to talk to her again, but it didn’t go as he planned. In the end, when they said their goodbyes, he knew she was nearly crying, and he knew he had to do something.

X-O-X-O

 

FIli breathed in deeply, trying to gather a little more courage than he had been able to do in the past hours when he paced around his room, trying to be sure about his decision, and then knocked on the door.

As he entered and asked for his uncle’s time, Emma thankfully left, and that alone was enough to make him slump down on the sofa in relief. Now it was time to convince his uncle of the depth of his feelings, so that he could do nothing else but give in to his request. And as with everything with his uncle, he just had to be a little vague, so his uncle could feel like he came to the answer by himself.

But as he was thinking about it, Thorin got impatient.

 “Come, out with it. You like like you did when you were 15 and had broken something in the smithy.”

Fili blew out a small huff of air in amusement, that accident had been funny in hindsight, not so funny in that moment though, but then remembered why he came to visit Thorin. His intimidating uncle Thorin, that always seemed to do everything right and seemed to be too perfect to be a role model. But unfortunately, it was the only male rolemodel he had, so hesitantly he started.

“You see, uncle, I –eeeeh—wanted to ask you something.” He said, unable to hold himself back from fidgeting with the hem of his tunic, even though he knew those sign of nervousness thouroughly annoyed his uncle; he hated outward signs of weakness.

“Fili, you’re 85 years old and heir to the throne of Erebor. If you want to ask something, just ask. It can’t be more embarassing than the time you asked what those noises coming from your parents bedroom were!”

Another huff of air was blown into the room and Fili silently cursed his uncle for chosing tonight of all nights for remembering things from his childhood. Normally Thorin couldn’t even remember his birthday under treat of his braids being cut, but now of all times his long term memory seemed to be in an excellent state.

“How do you if you’ve met your one?” He blurted out, forcing himself to ask despite his endless doubt of whether or not to speak to his uncle about this subject.

Thorin rubbed his beard and sat back.  “Fili, perhaps your mother….”

Fili shook his head and interrupted his uncle, knowing what he was going to say. He had already thought of having his mother talk to Thorin for him, but firstly that would make Thorin think that he was too weak to do it himself, secondly he wasn’t sure how his amad would think about him marrying Sigrid, and thirdly he didn’t want to remember his amad about her lost love. “Amad will speak of adad and she will cry, and I don’t want her to.”

Thorin nodded. “Your One.” He sighed. “A tricky subject. You wish to speak of –eeeh—physical—eeeh—things?”

“No!” Fili almost yelled, turning bright red. Thorin had once tried to educate Kili and him on that subject, and that toe curling experience had been painfull for all three of them, though it was difficult to say whom had suffered to most from it. His normally composed uncle had lost himself in all sort of vague euphemisms, and Kili had only made it worse by deliberately asking odd questions that seemed innocent but made Thorin almost feel embarrassed. And his uncle never, ever felt embarrassed.  “I mean, that is not what I wanted to ask, uncle. I wanted to ask—well—how did you know Emma is your One?”

Thorin actually smiled, and it made Fili a little bit unsure of his question, untill he straightened his expression back to the dour look he usually had. “When everything is better with that one person, then you know.”

“What do you mean ‘everything is better’?”

Thorin swallowed a little thickly.“She—“ he started, but then hesitated again. This conversation was turning out almost as bad as the one about ‘the physical side of love’ as Thorin had called it back then. “Waking up on a dark, cold morning and sticking your toes out from under the blanket becomes great because you know you will see them again. Sharing your only meal of the day becomes a pleasure because you share it with them.”

This was quite a confusing answer. His uncle seemed to believe love was making a bad situation only a bit better, surely he could not have such a dim view on a One?

 “A counselmeeting where your One is present becomes the highlight of your day. Meeting with other rulers becomes a holiday if you know they are there. Traveling becomes both fantastic and excruciating, as you know you will see them, but it takes too long.”

Even though the answer was still a bit strange, the softness in his uncle’s tone had surprised Fili, because he had never known his uncle to be a man that had such depths. Yet he still wasn’t where he wanted to be.

“But how does it differ then from seeing someone else. Like, I also look forward to seeing Kili and amad when I haven’t seen them for a long time.”

“Yes, but do they set your heart on fire? Do they make you feel weightless? And do they—eeeh—elicit other---eeeh—feelings?”

Mahal, another uncomfortable comparison. Sometimes he thought his uncle was really too oldfashioned to actually still be alive! So Fili snickered, and murmered a “I should hope not” under his breath, but then he looked at his uncle seriously again. “And can you be happy without your One?”

“You ask many difficult questions tonight, sister-son. And the answer to this one would depend on whom you ask. I think you can, but others will tell you it is a shallow and hollow happiness that will slowly dim the light inside your heart.” Thorin paused for a moment, looking at the fire. “It is different for us royals. If my father had still been alive when we took back Erebor, a political marriage would have been arranged for me and I probably wouldn’t have been able to marry Emma.”

He looked up at Fili. “Does it hurt when you think of your One and then think of marrying someone else?”

If he thought about Sigrid with some horse lord, or an old decrepit that only wanted her for her beauty instead of her as a person, he simultaneously wanted to smash someting into pieces and cry outloud. It couln’t be; she could not be anyone else’s but his’. “Yes.” He softly admitted.

“And have you felt like that with any of the other women you have had?”

Fili’s head jerked up at him. How could his uncle know?! He always made sure to keep girls out of his uncle’s sight, and was carefull to never speak about them. Thorin chuckled. “Don’t take me for an old fool, sister-son. I know most of what goes on here, including the rooms you visit and the people that visit your rooms.”

“No, I haven’t.” Fili answered to the earlier question, not wanting to think about his uncle, or anyone else for that matter, knowing of what he did at night when his loneliness became too much. When the darkness of his chambers seemed to swallow him whole and he lost all hope for love in his future.

“Then perhaps you already know the answer to your question, sister-son, and the only question that remains is why you are so unsure about it. Is it because of who she is, perhaps?”

So Thorin had known all along! He had had to have this horrific conversation to get Thorin to a certain point, when in reality it was all already known. He should have expected not to underestimate his uncle.

Thorin tilted his head and his expression softened.  “Being the heir to the throne of Erebor has many advantages, as I have known well when I was younger. But it also comes with obligations, which are a lot less nice to bear.” He sighed, looking utterly whistful. “I urge you to wait untill your aunt has a boy, Fili. It would not be beneficial for Erebor if I have no legitimate children and yours and Kili’s children are not eligable for taking the throne.”

He had expected this, he should have known such a sensible response would come but deep inside he had hoped for a more empathic one. He had hoped that his uncle could have seen his feelings, and for once put him before matters of state. It just was not fair. His whole life he had done what was expected of him, and now, for once, he wanted something. And now he could not have it, while his uncle’s wife held a throne while only half dwarven. “Emma is only half dwarf and she has the throne in the Grey Hills.”

Thorin ran his hand through his hair. “That is true. But the Grey Hills have always been somewhat different, an island within our race. They don’t do things the way other clans do them, and they do not conform to the traditions other clans do heed. And besides, as you well know Emma and her brother have the power there, and they have brought wealth back to the Grey Hills; their people love them so much for it they wouldn’t care if she was a half-orc.”

His uncle could bring as many rational explanations as he wanted, but all Fili could see was Sigrid taken away to the south and having to live with some horrible husband in Rohan. It just could not be, and so he decided to go forward with his own plans. “Is my share of the treasure still mine?”

 “It is always yours, sister-son. But I hoped you would give me the honor of paying your bride price, wedding and four month ball.”

A surge of happiness warmed Fili’s heart, hearing his uncle say that and the acceptance of his choice it entailed, but it wasn’t enough. “She had her coming into society ball ten months ago, uncle. She can only keep suitors at bay for so long before her father cannot deny them anymore because she doesn’t want to. Is there no sign at all of Emma—you know--?”

 “Perhaps a courting fee?” his uncle suggested, and it made Fili want to hit him square on the jaw. How could he even think that such a thing was suitable for Sigrid?!

“She’s the first daughter of a king, uncle. Not the third one of a duke.” He managed to get out through clenched teeth.

Thorin got up and walked to the hearth poking the wood to make the fire burn fiercer.“I will not stop you from doing what you want, Fili. You are an adult in every way, and I no longer tell you what to do. But I do ask you. I ask you to behave as the heir you are. You reap the benefits, now carry the disadvantages.”

X-O-X-O

 

Walking back to his chambers, Fili wondered if his story would ever have a silver lining. He wanted to marry Sigrid, he wanted it so badly, but he felt he couldn’t let his uncle down, not after everything Thorin had done for him and his brother.


	4. Yellow

As the fields were yellow with the growing grain, and then when they were lined with the bales of straw waiting to be picked up by the farmers and put away for the winter that was almost at their doorstep, Sigrids dreams were haunted by her love.

He was so close, yet so far away. In his letters he spoke of the love he felt for her, he begged her not to accept any of the suitors that had and would come to visit her father, his feelings clear in those pointly letters scribbled on luxurious paper.

But the few times she had seen him since that time he had told her they had to wait, he was more distant. It was as if he was simultaneously pulling her closer and pushing her further away, and it didn’t make sense to her. It made her want to pull back herself, perhaps give her heart the chance to close to him and open to another.

Yet everytime such a tought even passed her conscious thinking, another letter arrived, convincing her over and over that his interest was real. Real but difficult. Not even the snow storms of winter could bring an end to their paper romance. Ravens with their feathers all messed up by the wind, nearly frozen messenger boys, they all defied the northern winters to warm her heart.

He was still too far away though.

Untill one day, or rather an evening. An evening in which the light of the moon was reflected in mirrors of frozen snow and their windows were decorated by ice flowers. On that evening the rushing crowds in Dale, hurrying to get back inside from work or whereever they had been going, were startled in their goings on by a rather impressive, fur wrapped, procession clearly coming from Erebor and heading to Dale’s palace.

Sigrid had been huddled up on the sofa in her room, wrapped in numerous blankets while trying to read a book without taking her hands from under the warm protective coverings, while Bard, more used to the cold, was working in his study.

Both Father and daughter came to the receiving room, the former looking a lot more composed than the latter, which she was trying to make up for by trying to put her hair in a somewhat decent looking braid, and took a seat while Fili stood in front of them.

“I have come with most sad news from Erebor, and I ask for your aid.” He said in his regal voice, a voice that always made her glad to be sitting, as it made her knees a bit wobbly.

 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

On one hand he felt awfull about his actions, using a terrible situation in such a way, but on the other hand he just could not help himself. So when he had suggested it to his uncle, and the king had absentmindedly waved his hand in what Fili thought to be approval, he quickly gathered a group worthy of the occasion and jumped on his horse.

And now he stood before her, knowing the news they had been waiting for for so long, but needing to face the situation at hand first.

“His royal highness prince Melo of the Grey Hills, beloved brother to Queen Emma, has been taken away from us to the halls of Waiting.” He said, trying to sound as dour as posible, imagining how his uncle would bring such news.

Fili saw Bard’s adamsapple bob up and down as the king swallowed and looked at him a bit uncomprehensive. “He has – passed away?”

With a solemn nod of his head he confirmed that what Bard had been trying to clear up, and then two very different reactions came at once. Bard regally but stiffly offered his condoleances, while Sigrid clasped her hand before her mouth and started saying how sorry she was and how awful it was and how terrible they all had to be feeling.

“You said you needed our help.” Bard stated. “What may we do to aid in these terrible times?”

“May I?” FIli asked, pointing at one of the other chairs at the table, and with a generous gesture Bard bade him to sit.

And so Fili asked Bard for permission to enter Dale’s lands, and for his men to help in the search for Durer. And of course Bard did not deny him, he went as far as to immediately inform his captain of the guards. Something Fili had been hoping for, as it meant the neighbouring royal left Sigrid and him alone.

“How—how is Emma?” Sigrid quietly asked, appearantely thinking of Emma’s well being a lot more than him. He felt a little more guilty becasuse of it, but rationalised it to himself by telling hmself that Sigrid did not know the good news yet.

“With child” he whispered, and Sigrid’s head jerked up to look at him better.

It was in that moment Fili felt even more sure that this was the woman he wanted at his side for the rest of his life, so he would be given a chance to make her smile every day.


	5. Black

Her heart had skipped several beats when she heard his whispered words, words she had been longing to hear for what seemed an eternity, and she wanted nothing more than to leap into Fili’s arms. Yet she could not, she had to contain herself as her father could come back at any moment, and she was certain he would not be happy with such behaviour.

X-O-X-O

Despite her hapiness, she could not solely focuss on her dreams for the future. Instead, a blanket of mourning was cast over the northern region, as if brought to them by the howling storms that flew over the lands.

The evening after Fili’s late night visit, the invitation to the funeral of the prince of the Grey Hills was brought to them on the back of a crow. It had made her feel uneasy, as if the ominous bird would bring the burden of death from Erebor to their house.

With reluctance she took the letter and fed the crow some small pieces of bread, hoping it would fend of the bad luck. When it had flown away, she admonisheds herself. Such superstition was for the gullible and those who wished to put the blame for anything negative on others instead of themselves. Yet a shiver ran over her spine as if someone dumped a snowball into her dress.

 

X-O-X-O

 

Sigrid was to accompany her father to the funeral, and on the one hand she felt happy about that as it gave her an opportunity to see Fili again. On the other hand she felt really bad for having such callous thoughts about someone else’s time of grief. This wasn’t some party or a ball where she could chat and dance, this was a funeral of a dwarven royal!

Yet this wasn’t the only problem she encountered. She and her dad came to the conclusion they had no idea about how dwarves burried their dead, and how they were supposed to act. The only funeral she had ever been too was her ma’s, and the one thing she remembered from that was her da biting his lip, presumably to stop himself from crying in public. Bard had, of course, been to more funerals than just his wife’s, but they had all been of Man, not of dwarves. Simple fisherman’s funerals, more often than not with an empty caskett as the body of the unfortunate fisher was taken by the water never to be returned again. Those occasions always started solemnly, the women comforting the widow while the men thought about when it would be their time. They always ended with an overabundance of alcohol consumption and melancholic songs. He doubted the funeral of a dwarven prince would be like that.

In the end, Bard decided to just do what they were used to. After all, they weren’t dwarves so it could not be expected that they acted like them. His temperate approach worried Sigrid to no end, as she could not only be rational; for her, her heart was at stake. The next day she went to the dressmaker to have him make her a black dress and she bought a matching lace veil, but the thought that they would stand out, make fools of themselves,  and Fili’s family would see even more clearly that she didn’t fit in, kept nagging at her all day and night. They would deem her unsuitable for Fili, even if king Thorin had an heir of his own, and they would be against their marriage. Would Fili still ask her to marry him then? Or would he pull back and marry some dwarven woman that his mother would approve of?

 

X-O-X-O

 

She fidgetted with the finely woven lace trim of her veil all the way to Erebor. Her da, who was sitting next to her in the carriage, noticed and put his hand on hers. “When the dead are being burried, Sig, they only look peacefull, not frightening. There isn’t anything to be nervous about, love.”

He clearly thought her worries came from apprehension of seeing a corpse, and she gave him a watery smile.

When they arrived, a servant walked up to them and informed father and daughter he had been appointed to guide them through the day by prince Fili. They followed him deeper and deeper into the mountain, and the thought of being surrounded by nothing but the greenish stone, layer upon layer above her, started to make her feel like she was trapped. Yet she carried on, and they entered a very large, round hall, were many dwarves stood around something she couldn’t see in the middle.

Around the edges of the hall next to the entrance, against the warm looking but cold feeling walls, many chairs were placed, and as Sigrid looked, she saw they were meant for foreign guests. And so it came to be that she was sitting next to king Thranduil, who just looked at her down his nose and then focussed on some point at the ceiling again.

Sigrid looked around to try to find Fili’s golden hair in the crowd somewhere. It should not be difficult to find, as there did not seem to be many dwarves with her prince’s golden mane, but she did not see him, and then her search was disturbed by the servant.

“The queen and royal family will be arriving any minute, and then the singing will start. Should you wish to leave at any moment, please let me know and I will escort you out.”

Bard nodded his thanks and then seemed to settle into his chair, prepared for a long sit.

 

X-O-X-O

Sigrid did not have to wait that long, as Fili walked in, accompanied by Kili and Tauriel, mere minutes later. She peered at him intendly, almost willing him to look at her with her thoughts. Yet he did not. Instead, he stood next to the square stone on which Emma’s brother rested, and did not look around.Soon after that, Emma came in, resting heavily on king Thorin’s support and followed by what Sigrid thought were her serving maids. When she too stood next the tomb, the singing started.

She felt like had sat in the dark hall for hours, and Sigrid could not help but to look around. The dwarves were all dressed in black, but there was in no way unity. King Thorin, Fili and Kili all wore their beards relatively short, and had only a few beads in their hair. But the dwarves she saw were not like that. Their beards grew long, and were styled in so many ways and adorned with so much jewelry, that she could not believe them to ever feel comfortable. Perhaps that was why they were always so cranky and short-tempered.

After having studied the dwarven funeral guests for a while, she turned her attention to the elves. Emma’s father stood a little away from the other guests, his eyes constantly fixed upon his daughter. Yet his were not the only eyes on Emma, she noticed. King Thranduil, whom she expected to leave out of boredom hours ago, also kept looking on the queen of Erebor. It was a bit odd really, but she did not quite know what to make of it. It got even worse when queen Emma’s vail was lifted and she put a knife to her hair. The exact moment the first hair was cut, Sigrid heard a small gasp beside her, and when she looked up, she saw the elven king looking aghast at the scene before them.

Not the other dwarves though. Most of them copied Emma’s action, with the notable exception of the Ereborian royals and nobles. Their faces remained dour, and Sigrid wondered if they did not care of the prince’s passing, or they did not want to show.

 

X-O-X-O

 

it wasn’t untill they were escorted to the large dininghall that she saw it _had_ actually been hours that they had been sitting in the funeral hall. The sun was already setting, and the sky had an eerie blood red colour. Like the crow had done, it made her feel uneasy, an undefined feeling of worry.

King Thorin was sitting on the large, throne like chair at the head of the largest table, but instead of Emma sitting next to him, he was flanked by Fili and Kili. When all the food was on the table, the king raised his cup and held it in the air for several moments, and then said in his loud, deep baritone: “To Prince Melo.”

All the other guests repeated the gesture and words, and Sigrid scrambled to follow suit. After that, it turned into one of the funerals Bard was used to, only with a lot more and much better food. And when both voices and steps were unsteady, the story telling began. Deeds of prince Melo’s heroism were shared, and Sigrid started to feel sorry she had never met him. Yet when he was named ‘rider of tigers’ she started to believe his deeds were exaggerated, though she was not sure.

When Sigrid looked up at the throne for the umpteenth time that evening, Fili had suddenly disappeared. He was not lost for long though, as she felt a short tap on her shoulder. Looking behind her, Fili waved at her from an alcove to come to him. She looked to the side, and she saw her da in a heated conversation with some dwarf lord about the advantages of fish over meat.


	6. Pink

After a quick glance at her father, he saw Sigrid get up and walk over to him, walking a bit hunched as if she was trying to avoid anyone from seeing her. All day he had felt her gaze upon him, and all day he had wanted to look back at her. Now he could not wait anymore, and he pulled her into the alcove, flush against his chest. She looked strartled, her eyes wide open and her lips parted a bit.

“Come with me?” he whispered, and she wordlessly nodded.

Fili grabbed her hand in his and nearly dragged her along through the back hallways. When they had entered one of the smaller councilchambers and he had closed the door behind them, he saw she was a bit out of breath, and small whisps of hair had escaped from under the edge of her mourning veil.

He had not yet let go of her hand, and he really wanted to use it to pull her to him, holding her tight and softly stroke those little strands out of her face. But he knew he had to control himself, to not suddenly let loose after such a long time of rare meetings and veiled words. So he looked back at her, her face beautifully framed by the delicate lace.

“How’s your aunt?” She asked in the soft voice, somehow unable to keep looking at him.

He took a step back and leaned against the side of the large, wooden meeting table that stood in the middle of the room. How was Emma? He hadn’t really thought about it, focussing more on her being pregnant and the implications of that for his future. He had given Melo some thought, but he came to the conclusion he didn’t really like the prince, so he did not really feel sad for about his death, only slightly worried about the political implications of his assasination.

Yet now, now the question was posed in such an unselfish way, he felt bad about that. Emma wasn’t just the carrier of the new heir of Erebor, and Melo wasn’t just a political danger.

“Alright, given the circumstances.” He said, trying to sound neutral. When Sigrid did not answer, nor say anything else, he continued. “She loved him very much.”

“And his ma?” She whispered, still looking at her feet.

Melo’s mother. That was another subject. Appearantely she had died, but messages hadn’t reached Erebor because all communication from Rivendell was blocked. He wondered if it was on Thorin’s or Emma’s request that this was done.

When he told her of Eliana’s passing, she nodded slowly. “I met her once. She and Emma came for lunch in our house.”

After that, she fell quiet for a bit, and he slowly stroked her hand. “Emma, is she – do you think—“

When Sigrid couldn’t find the right words, she slowly started to retreat her hand back. But he held it a little tighter and pulled her a little closer. “Yes, she is pregnant. And yes, I think she’ll have a boy.”

It was like the air between them was charged in the same way it felt after a thunderstorm. Feeling heavy, laden with unspoken words and possibilities. What he wanted was to pull her even closer so he could feel all of her against him and finally taste her lips.

But Sigrid looked down at her hands again. “Do you think it will be long?” she said, so softly he wasn’t sure he heard correctly.

Fili frowned. This wasn’t the normal interest women had in eachother’s pregnancies, something seemed to upset her. He tentatively pulled her a little closer.

“We’re—not exactly sure. Around 5 months, I think. Are you – is there—“

Sigrid looked at her feet again, and with one finger he softly lifted her chin up and looked into her eyes.

“I don’t – I mean – I don’t want to pressure you.” She finally said.

He didn’t get it at first, didn’t see the relation between the two subject, but when it dawned on him, he stood up as if bitten by a snake. “Who has come?” He demanded, perhaps a little rougher than he meant to sound.

“Gondor.” Sigrid admitted in a trembling voice, and immediately he saw what he had done. From what he had seen in the interaction Sigrid’s family had with eachother, they were always kind, soft spoken. He had overwhelmed her with his roughness, and he did the only thing he could think of to make her feel beter. He pulled her in his embrace and burried his nose in her hair.

She smelled so good, like flowers and summer and his heart clenched at the thought of her belonging to another.They were so close, he could almost taste the hapiness. It just could not be that it would be taken from them. Surely Bard wouldn’t give his daughter to someone she didn’t want? But on the other hand, Bard hadn’t liked them ever since he fond out who Thorin was. And then his dear uncle had gone ahead and started a fight. Perhaps old grudges weren’t all gone, and Sigrid and he had to pay the price for the mistakes of the past.

Softly, carefully he brought first their foreheads together and then, even more tentatively, he placed his lips on hers. Of course he had kissed girls before, had done a lot more, but somehow this careful touch of just their lips meant so much more than all those other things combined.

Sigrid froze at first, but then she kissed him back, her arms wrapped around his neck as he laid his’ around her waist. After a while of exploring eachother’s lips, her hands wandered up and she ran them through his hair. Immediately his body responded and he wanted to pull her closer, delve into her mouth with his tongue and feel her against him.

But he couldn’t, shouldn’t. It would lead them places he did not yet want to go with her. He wanted to wait, make it special instead of a sordid romp on the table. And so he pulled back, and it seemed like he pulled her from a spell.

Nervously she smooted out her skirt and put her hair and veil in place. “I’ve never—It’s my first kiss” she stammerd. “I’m sorry if I—“

He put their foreheads together again. “Your kisses, your touches, your presence, all lead me to want something I should not want yet.” He whispered, and even though he could not see, he could imagine how a pink blush crept up her cheeks. “If you are certain, if you are really certain you’ll accept me, I’ll find a way to take care of this.”

Somehow he still half expected her to pull back, to tell him she needed to think about this and then avoid him untill he got the message. How could she love him after such short time, when she knew so little of him? But appearantely it was enough for her, and she nodded and whispered that she really wanted him for a husband.

That night in his rooms, Fili realised he had made a promise but that he had no idea how to fulfill it.


	7. Brown

She had gotten her first kiss. Her very first, very special kiss. And it wasn’t behind the shacks on the docks like so many of her childhood friends, it was in the home of her very own prince. Her prince, who would save her from the villain from Gondor. If only he had a white horse, then she would be in one of the fairy tales her da had told her when she was little and he tucked her into bed.

She giggled at the comparison, putting her hand on her mouth to muffle the sound. After a while she calmed down again, and she started to think seriously about their situation. He had said he would take care of everything, but what could he do about the offer that Gondor made her Da? Surely he could not refuse them if the offer was good, if he thought she could be happy there?

 

X-O-X-O

 

Weeks later Sigrid still thought about that kiss, still felt the tingling on her lips she had felt in that meeting room in Erebor. Yet now it did not lead to the euphoria it had before. Now it lead to a melancholic, depressing feeling. Her prince had not yet come, he had only sent her two small notes, asking her to stall negotiations with the suitor from Gondor, claiming he needed more time to arrange everything with his uncle.

And now this pompous ass from his stupid white city sat at the table, whispering to her da and seemingly ignoring her, except for the leering glances he threw in her direction every now and then. He wanted an answer, soon. And he offered aid to Dale and an amount of gold that sounded like a heap. And she knew. She knew she had to marry soon. If not to help Dale with her dowery then to prevent any gossip, if that wasn’t already going around.

She looked at the steward, his greasy brown hair hanging around his face, a drip of fat rolling from his frog-like mouth onto his chin. She imagined that mouth kissing her ad Fili had done, and she couldn’t stop herself from shivering. Sigrid kew she couldn;t marry him, but she also knew that if her da asked, no matter how many times he would say she wasn’t obliged in any way, she would not be able to stop herself from saying no.

When their ‘guest’ burped loudly without even as much as an apology, she excused herself.

 

X-O-X-O

 Later that night, when she couldn’t sleep and even warm milk didn’t help, Sigrid paced through her bedroom. She did not want to push Fili further or faster than he wanted, but she also _really_ did not want to become the stewaress of Gondor.

In the end, when her feet felt she had walked all the way to the Mirkwood and back, she went to send out a raven to Fili, simply stating she could not stall any longer.


	8. Grey

Across the expanse between Dale and Erebor,  there was another that was pacing within the confines of his room. His problems pressed so heavily on his shoulders, he felt like he would crumble under them if he didn’t just run. Put on a cloak, get a horse from the stables and make for the open plains. Built some kind of a cabin in the woods perhaps, or carve out a cave in the hills of the Dunlands.

It was tempting. Be free of the constant pressure, the constant expectations that everyone had of him. But wen he looked out of the window, he saw the lights of Dale and the thought of having a cabin or cave suddenly felt empty. The quiet would become loneliness and the lack of responsability would turn into boredom without a love to share his life with.

He wondered if it would ever happen, someone to love and to hold and to have. It seemed more likely that Thorin would use his skull as a winecup than helping him marry Sigrid after what he did to Emma. He didn’t mean to, he really didn’t. It was just—she had wanted to take her anger out on a little boy that couldn’t be blamed for the situation. Somehow that kind of situation stirred something deep inside of him, a sort of powerlessness, though he couldn’t remember having experienced such a thing. And then she had wanted to run away from the whole mess again, like she always did. He only had wanted to demand an explanation, to make her see how wrong her decisions were. It all went wrong and now he felt like their whole family was about to collapse.

Even though he hadn’t meant to hurt Emma, he still felt terribly guilty, more so than he feared the wrath of his uncle or a rift in the family. And even more, he feared becoming like his uncle. He had seen how Thorin had hit Emma, had seen the bruises on her cheek the day after, and he had swore to never become such a man. But had he still become his uncle now? And if he had, was he still worthy of Sigrid’s love?

He felt like he was stuck, like he couldn’t think over his options properly because his head was overflowing. The pressure was mounting and somehow everything flowed together in his mind: the toad from Gondor proposing a marriage to Bard, the expectations of his uncle and Erebor, what he had done to Emma. All one big mess that prevented him from rationally thinking over his options. He had to act, do _something_ at least, instead of perpetually waiting for others or changing circumstances.

X-O-X-O

In the dead of night, when even the wolves were asleep and only the soft hooting of owls could be heard and the world seemed to be painted in greys and blacks, Fili took a pony from the stables. The poor animal looked at him through hooded, sleepy lids and was rather difficult to get moving, but in the end both horse and rider rode at considerable speed over the rocky ground that would lead them to Dale.

Arrived at the royal palace of Dale, Fili’s plan suddenly didn’t seem so great to him anymore. He couldn’t very well ring the bell and ask to be admitted to Sigrid’s bedroom, nor could he rouse Bard at this hour. He thought back on some human lad he was acquainted with in the Blue Mountains. The boy had a soft spot for a girl with bright blue eyes and blond curls and she for him, but the lass’ father had an entirely different feeling about the whole thing. So on Saturday night, whe he didn’t have to work the next day, the lad would wait up late and then go to the lass’ house and throw little pebbles at her window and she would come out to enjoy the few hours before sunrise with him. Untill her father found out, that was. Fili wondered what had become of them, if they were ever allowed to be together. He hoped so, and for some foolish reason his heart ached a little thinking of that young, forbidden love.

He realised he couldn’t afford to keep thinking of lovers that had probably already passed away, so he took some pebbles from Bard’s garden and started throwing them at the window he was pretty sure of was Sigrid’s. It took several tries, and another hand of little stones, but in the end a sleepy head surrounded by whisps of soft curling hair that had escaped a braid, was stuck out of a window. When Sigrid finalle woke up enough to see it was him, she pulled back her head with a panicky look on her face and Fili started to believe he had overstepped the line by coming here so late and uninvited.

His heartrate didn’t go down when the princess of Dale came out of the palace through some servant’s back door, nor when she tentatively hugged him. On the contrary, his heart beated faster and faster, knowing he had done the right thing that what he wanted was within reach.

When she pulled away from their embrace, she looked at him inquisitively. “What are you—why—I mean—“ the stumbling words were followed by a deep, annoyed sigh. Appearantely his wife to be was not very eloquent when just awoken. Fili grinned, taking in the look on he face that clearly betrayed she was both angry with herself and somehow ashamed. But then he turned serious again.

“Can we talk somewhere?” he whispered, knowing that his deeper voice would carry further than hers.

Sigrid nodded and took his hand, leading him to the same bench they had sat on when he had told her that Kili was going to marry Tauriel, when their dreams seemed to shatter in the harsh light of reality. He noticed that his hands were trembling lightly when he took hers, and wondered if his dreams would really come to an end now.

“What is it?” Sigrid whispered to him, encouraging him with a shy smile.

Suddenly he wasn’t sure what he wanted to tell her exactly, what words he would need. He was distracted by her small, finely shaped hands and the thought of running his hands, which seemed like warg paws in comparison to hers, through her hair. He jerked his head to clear his mind and gather his thoughts.

“I’m here to ask you something, but tell you something first. Perhaps what I tell you will influence your answer to what I ask you, so I want to tell you something first.”When he heard his own ramblings he knew he sounded like he was a bit soft in the head, but Sigrid only nodded for him to continue, too kind to laugh at him.

“You see, there was somewhat of a fight in my family.” He started, and Sigrid clasped her hand before her mouth and widened her eyes, seemingly a bit shocked hearing this. He continued nonetheless, this probably wasn’t the only fight in his family she was going to hear of. “Emma wanted to walk away. She does that, you know, she walks away when something is wrong and then leaves everyone involved terribly frustrated.” He stilled for a moment, realising he probably shouldn’t have said that. Sigrid seemed to notice, seemed to know what he was thinking somehow. “I won’t tell anyone”, she whispered.

And then the moment came. The moment in which he had to confess what he had done. A confession that would maybe drive her away from him, could leave him with nothing for the rest of his life. Yet he knew he had to continue, he could not stop now. “I grabbed her arm to stop her and she fell against the door.” He whispered. Sigrid remained quiet so he carefully looked at her.

Instead of angry or disappointed words being directed at him, he felt her hadn on his cheek, softly stroking the course hair of his beard. “Did you mean to hurt her, Fili?” She whispered.

He shook his head. Hurting Emma was the last thing he wanted. He had just wanted her to talk, to explain herself. Shame overtook him again and he could only shake his head in reply to Sigrid’s soft question. He noticed she came to sit closer to him and then he felt her lips right next to her fingers, tenderly kissing him. “If it was an accident, then there was nothing you could have done. I’m sure Emma will feel the same.”

After those words, that somehow made him feel so much better when spoken by her instead of him just telling htem to himself. So he turned to her and slowly kissed her back. When she seemed to like his touches he moved his lips to her neck, right where the underside of her jaw met her neck, where he felt her strong pulse. Sigrid’s head fell back with a keening sound and he felt her hands sliding upwards, running though his hair. A shiver ran down his spine and he pulled her closer, holding on to her harder and kissing her like the end of the world was near. When he heard her moan softly and holding on to his hair even tighter, he knew he  had to stop. He had to or it would end up with him taking her right here on the muddy grass.

Panting, he sat back while Sigrid looked at her hands she had folded in her lap. “Did I—do you not--?” Although she did not finish her sentence, like he had done when they started their conversation, he knew what his sudden withdrawl had done. She felt like she had done something wrong, like she had chased him away. So he shook his head vehemently. “It is—it is my hair. The feeling makes me—“ He did not know how to continue. Did she know of sex and such, he wondered. Or was she wholy innocent in these matters?

He could not finish his thoughts, as Sigrid carefully cleared her throat. “You said you also wanted to ask something?” For a moment he was confused by the change of subject, but then he came back to the present. “Yes. You see, I don’t think I can get Thorin to come here, you know, to arrange the marriage.” He saw Sigrids tentative smile drop, so he quickly took her hands in his. “I thought, perhaps if you could get your father to come to Erebor? I am certain it can all be arranged then.” With a radiant smile, visible even in the dark, Sigrid nodded. "Tomorrow?"


	9. Black

Bard wasn’t really a morning person. He liked to enjoy the warmth of his bed while the rays of the sun filtered through the panes of glass of the windows. It gave him some time to think, to prepare for the day to come and imagine the possibilities ahead. After that, he wanted to be able to go sit in his kitchen and enjoy a cup of strong black tea. By himself without too much fussing around him. This hadn’t changed since he went from bargeman to king, on the contrary, he needed this time even more. Unfortunately, quiet mornings were also harder to come by. For some reason the servants always wanted to discuss one thing or another, or a member of the council came by to prepare for a debate. One morning he had even found the elven king in his kitchen, moodily drinking tea and scaring the maid. That had not been a good day.

Sigrid, of course, knew all this. She had been up before dawn, sending all the staff away with the most farfetched reasons. She wondered when mrs. Pottel would find out Tilda was in fact not at the market, nor did she need an escort to go there. Well, that would be a later worry. For now she had her da to herself and hopefully in a good mood. If the tea and toast had done their job that was.

She looked at him sitting at the table, staring out the window, through the slightly opened door. When he was about halfway through his first cup, though the toast was still untouched, she went in and sat across the table from him. She had spent half the night rehearsing what she wanted to say, talking to her most prettily embroided pillow and imagining it was the disappointed face of her da.

Appearantly it hadn’t really worked, as she heard her voice tremble when she bid him a goodmorning. He looked at her, and just from his expression she knew that he knew she wanted something from him. Decidedly he put his cup down and looked back at her. “Don’t tell me you have decided to marry that Gondorian, Sig.” He said to her relief.

“I thought you—“ Her words trailed off, somewhat surprised that her da didn’t like the latest courter. Why had he let the man stay for so long if he didn’t want him as a son-in-law?

“He looks like a toad, Sig.” Bard clarified as if he had read her mind. “And he eats a lot less clean.”

She giggled, partly because of the look of barely veiled disgust on her da’s face, partly because of her nerves. But she couldn’t go back now, she just didn’t have a choice. If she didn’t, this would be the rest of her life. Fili would move on, find someone else, and she would be sitting here, day after day, and looking at him from afar.

“I want to marry someone else, da.” She whispered.

Bard looked up, his tea temporarily forgotten. “Who?” he asked sharply, and then he sighed and shook his head, already knowing the answer to his own question. “No.” He said in reply to the answer she was about to give him. “No.”

Bard saw his oldest daughter’s fce and sighed deeply. “Sigrid, dear, Fili? He’s mad Thorin’s heir!” Bard turned the slightest bit red and scraped his throat when he realised his slip of the tongue. It wouldn’t do for Sigrid to know how he called Thorin in his head. “Thorin’s. He’s Thorin’s heir. Thorin. Of Erebor.”

Sigrid looked at her hands, her fingers twirling and trembling without her permission. When she had been practising last night, she had thought of the words she was going to use, about which questions her da was going to ask and what she would do if he would yell. She had not counted on a flat out ‘no’ though. So now it felt like her head was full of those small flies that always sat on the fruit in summer and they kept on flying around, making it impossible for her to think straight. She searched for the words she needed, but she couldn’t find any. When her skin started to prickle and she was feeling like she was sweating right through all the layers she was wearing, she looked up at her da.

“They’ll give you a good dowery.” She blurted out, and right when the words had left her mouth, she knew it was a mistake.

“A dowery?!”Bard jumped up from his chair, toplling the innocent piece of furniture in the process, and was looking at her with bulging eyes and a curled up upper lip. “A dowery?! Trading a life full of unhappiness for you for a dowery?!”

As soon as it had come, Bard’s anger died down. He picked up the chair and sat down with a sigh, rubbing his face. “I want you to marry someone you love, Sig, not for gold or status or whatever stupid reasons people have for making foolish marriages.”

He took her hand, perhaps a little rougher than he planned, and looked at her. “Marriage is for life, Sig. It isn’t just a wedding, or gold, or status. It is about loving eachother and having a family and—“

He was interrupted by Sigrid also gripping his hand, tightly. “I do love him, da, I really do.”

“But how?! You don’t know him, I mean, you have met him, what, 3 or 4 times?” As Sigrid pulled back her hand and looked down, he knew his estimate was rather on the low side. “Don’t tell me you _have_ to get married?!”

The king of Dale sighed in relief as his daughter shook her head in denial. “But then—“

Again he was interrupted as Sigrid, trying to come up with arguments for her marrying Fili, nearly yelled: “He lives right next door so I can still visit often!”

With a groan Bard dropped his head in his hands again and then, very reluctantly, nodded.

 

X-O-X-O

 

As they stood in the hallway, ready to get the carriage and go to Erebor, Bard looked at his daughter again. “Is this really what you want, love? I mean, they’re neighbours and all, but they’re so—different from us.” It was said in the tone of a father that would give his daughter anything her heart desired, but whom feared she would pay dearly for a decision made in a whim.

“Da….” She sighed, her unhappiness with his question clear from the weary tone she spoke in.

“If it is the riches you want, then perhaps another suitor from Gondor? Or Rohan? You like horses, and they ….” This time he stopped talking by himself.

Sigrid scoffed derisively nonetheless. “They are all greedy and powerhungry. And it is not power or gold I look for in a husband. I want what you and ma had; a marriage, not a contract.”

His daughter replied firmly, letting him know that for once, and definitively, she thought of herself and her own desires. And she was right to do so, he thought. Ever since his wife died she had more than adequately taken care of his household. And more importantly so, she had done it with love. In his head he had of course always known she would one day leave his family to start her own, but his heart wasn’t ready for it. Not now, not ever. He wanted to keep her beside him for all his years to come.

It was that thought that brought him to do as his daughter asked and get in the carriage. His daughter might have chosen for love, he chose for short distance, silently thinking that he should just have let Thranduil take over Erebor and all of its inhabitants.

.

 

X-O-X-O

 

Sigrid sat on a little bench in one of Erebor’s many hallways. Her knees were almost pressed to her chest as the seating was clearly made for dwarven visitors to the king, but she did not notice. She craned her neck and tilted her head back, staring at the wealthily decorated arches supporting the pathways of the higher levels. She wondered how many levels there were. There had to be at least ten, judging on what she saw now and what she had seen when she came for the funeral of Emma’s brother.

And then it dawned on her. As she heard slightly agitated voices coming from the chamber behind her, it dawned on her that this would be her new home. That she was going to marry one of the princes of this kingdom. That mad king Thorin, no, _king Thorin!_ , would be her uncle-in-law.

 _“What are you implying, Thorin?!”_   she heard her father yelling, followed by something uncipherable in Thorin’s deep baritone. And the meeting went on.

And on.

And on.

And on.

Sigrid wondered what it was they were talking about for such a long time. Her father didn’t much care for a dowery, Fili wanted to marry her, Emma was pregnant so Thorin would have at least one heir of himself and Kili had already married an elf. So what would be a cause for long talks?

When she heard the doors open she jumped up and smiled with anticipation. As it turned out, Fili did come out of the room, but he ran straight past her in a great hurry. Confused, she looked around. Should she walk into the room? Or would that be too presumptious? Would king Thorin get upset if she overstepped in such a way?  She took a step towards the doors, and then took a step backwards again, not knowing what to do.

And so it went on for at least a quarter hour. And then FIli came back. With Emma. And maps. Going into the room and closing the door again. At that point Sigrid just couldn’t take it anymore and sat down on the floor, so she could at least stretch her legs. Her eyes started to fill up and before she knew it she was sobbing in the middle of a hallway right in front of the office of the king of Erebor. With no handkerchief with her. All the nerves she had felt in the past couple of months, and was feeling right now, just came out. At the worst moment possible. In the worst place possible.

It only got worse as Emma came out of the room again and just nodded at her, mumbling “Congratiolations, Sigrid. Be carefull what you get yourself into.” And then kept walking.

 

X-O-X-O

 

“Sig?” FIli came out of the office, looking at her with a radiant smile that showed off those really cute dimples.

“ Yes?” she replied, every muscle in her body tense.

“Yes!” he laughed, and then wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a big hug. As she put her face into that perfect crook of his neck, her da also left the office.

“You’re not married yet.” He grouched at Fili, whom released her immediately. “I’m going home, Sig. I’ll send back the carriage so you can come back later.”

And with that, he left. Fili looked at her inquisitively as she stared at her father’s back. “He’s—he wasn’t prepared for this.”


	10. Orange

They were to be married around six months from now. Or perhaps seven or eight.  Depending on how long Emma’s pregnancy would be. Thorin had decided his heir was to be born and presented first and Emma was to have her amad day without any added stress from a wedding. That way no event would overshadow another. It all sounded very logical and convenient. So Bard agreed, and so did Fili.

Yet when he held Sigrid in his arms after he had told her they could get married, he realised he didn’t want to wait. He wanted her to be his’ now, not in another couple of months. Not because he wanted to sleep with her, well, he did but that was not the main reason. The main reason was that he wanted to come home to her. He wanted to go to their apartment after a long day of brain-killing negotiations and papers and sit with her, share their meal and just talk. Talk to someone who wasn’t so tangled up in the murky Ereborian politics that even having children wasn’t merely a personal choice anymore.

He wanted to tell her all those things, and more, when they were interrupted. He was looking for the right words to convey his feelings without sounding like he wanted to drag her into a dark corner and rip her dress off, see her perfect skin covered in only the dim orange light of a torch, when suddenly people started to run past them, carrying who knew what and looking rather stressed. A servant finally came to him, telling in a low voice that appearantly Thorin would be getting his heir soon.

Fili looked at Sigrid, not wanting to part from her just yet. “Will you join me in the royal chambers?” he asked, a smile ghosting at the corners of his mouth at being able to invite her to formal royal occasions.

She looked back at him, her face still glowing with happiness, though a small frown had formed between her eyebrows. “I—“ She paused for a moment, fidgeting with the sleeves of her dress. “I don’t think I want to do that before we’re married.”

Fili frowned. “You don’t want to meet my family before we’re married?”

“Your family?” Now it was Sigrid’s turn to be confused, and for a moment they looked at eachother untill Sigrid realised what the confusion was about and she quickly looked away, bright red blushes on her cheeks. It was the most endearing thing he had ever seen. Slowly he raised his hand to her cheek and tucked a loose tendril of hair behind her ear. How in Mahal’s name did he get a woman like that? And more importantly, how could he keep her like this, so pure and innocent? How could he protect her against the harsh reality of life that she would be confronted with without a doubt?

Before his thoughts could run away with him Sigrid took his hand. “Is your family not too busy now? With Emma’s child coming soo, I mean?”

Her simple question took his thoughts away from the load of responsability he felt was pressing heavy on his shoulders and turned his attention back to her. “We wait together, in uncle’s apartment. Just sit there untill the babe is born, talk a bit, perhaps play a game. You could talk to my mother about the wedding, what you’d like and such.”

He tought it would probably be best if Sigrid met his mother now. Amad would not make a big scene if Emma was giving birth to Erebor’s new heir in the next room, so that would spare them some unpleasantness. Perhaps the prospect of finally becoming an aunt would even make her amendable to some light chatter about fabrics and flowers.


	11. Jade

Fili’s mam was a nightmare. All the bad things she had heard about mothers-in-law, and she had heard many things from her friends in Laketown about all the wicked things the mothers of their husbands did, could not have prepared her for her first meeting with the sister of the king.

The whole thing was a disaster and if their engagement had not just been sealed and signed, Sigrid would have thought Fili would end it then and there. Or perhaps she thought too little of him in that regard. Dis would have ended it then and there. After their terribly embarassing misunderstanding Sigrid had followed Fili to the king’s apartment. He had extended his arm in what was probably a polite gesture, but she was sure she would not have been able to walk without it. As they climbed several stairs Sigrid felt her knees buckling under her and her fingers trembling slightly. But she did not want to disappoint Fili, whom seemed eager to go, so she did not say anything.

Having arrived, king Thorin and the dark haired elves that had come to visit them in the palace of Dale once completely ignored their presence, and there seemed to be an odd sort of tension in the room. Nothing too obvious, just angry and nervous glances being exchanged. Lady Dis was sitting on one of the sofas, the places next to her occupied, and with her back to where Fili and herself were standing, so a conversation did not seem likely. The only one really noticing she was there, was Kili, and he waggled his eyebrows at his brother with a broad smile.

And then there was a moan coming from what Sigrid assumed was the bedroom. She had been present for births before, had even sometimes assisted the midwife if there was no one else to help, but as the moans became louder and louder she believed something was going terribly wrong. Either that or queen Emma was a bit on the sensitive side, though she had never given that impression.

When the queen screamed for her husband, all the tension that had been building in the room seemed to explode at once in the form of a screaming king. He frightened her, Sigrid was not afraid to admit that. She believed king Thorin to be the most awe-inspiring man she had ever met and not in a good way. So when he started yelling and bodily dragged Kili out of the room and into the hallway, she feared she would wet herself. Had it not been for Fili gently steering her to the door, she would have frozen in fear, unable to do anything.

When everyone that had been in the royal apartment was standing in the hallway, several people muttering under their beards, Fili’s mother turnd to her son and then looked at Sigrid from top to bottom and then back up. “And what is she doing here?” The princess of Erebor asked, her tone both haughty and grumpy.

Fili smiled, a wooden smile he had to struggle to maintain as he held Sigrid’s hand in his right and put his left hand on his mother’s shoulder. “Amad, this is Sigrid, daughter of Bard and princess of Dale. Uncle has approved of our engagement this afternoon.” He said, a slight tremor in his voice.

Several people shuffled their feet or looked at the ceiling, and Kili and Tauriel were the only ones to offer their congratiolations then and there, the elf giving her a warm embrace that forced her to let go of Fili’s hand. Her future mother-in-law did no such thing; it seemed she had to hold herself back from bodily attacking Sigrid. “Your uncle has approved of this?” She asked in that same, horrible tone, and Sigrid wanted to run away.

“Aye” Fili nodded. “It’s all done and dusted and I would like it very much if you were to help Sigrid with the wedding preparations.” A hint of authority seemed to have crept in Fili’s tone, and it looked like Dis had picked up on that as well, as she said no more, only crooked her eyebrow and then softly started talking to Dwalin in those harsh, gutteral sounds Khuzdul was made of.

As Sigrid looked around, she saw kind smiles on most faces, but for the rest it remained silent. Fili softly tugged her arm, and together they left, leaving everyone behind them. He turned left and then opened a door for her. As she entered, she guessed these were Fili’s private rooms; knives and swords hanging from the walls and some pieces of clothing laying on the floor.

“Here is where we’ll live. I though you might like to see it so you’ll know what you want to change.” He murmered.

She felt curious and uncomfortable at the same time; she did want to see more, but she was also afraid what would be said about her if she spent time alone with him in his chambers. Sigrid looked at Fili, hoping to find some clue as to what to do, a sign that they would leave soon, but he just nodded at her in encouragement to explore further.

The rooms were spacious and the ceilings high enough for her to not feel like she was about to knock her head every moment, but they were dark. The walls were almost jade in colour, and light came in from only one side for obvious reasons, causing the other sides of the rooms to bade in shadows. Lighting candles to bring in some light would be a large waste of money give the quantity that would be needed, so that wouldn’t be an option. Sigrid wondered how queen Emma kept her rooms so light, even the antechamber where there were no windows.

But that was neither here or there. She wasn’t a queen, and she knew she should be grateful for the large space Fili was offering her. So she smiled at him. “It is lovely.”

File eyed her with some doubt and then laughed. “Don’t be flattering me when it isn’t asked for, Sig.” He said, and then he stood closer to her, wrapping his arms around her from behind. It felt good. It felt so good that all she wanted to do was turn around and feel his lips op hers again. Yet she dared not. What would he think of her?!

Fili was of another mind though, as he came to stand in front of her and stepped backwarts pulling her with him untill he leaned on a wooden table and she was in his embrace. Softly he kissed her, a low rumble escaping from his throat. She could not resist it and she slightly opened her mouth for him. For a while they explored eachother, their tongues slowly rolling around and breathing in eachothers air. And then Fili moved his kisses from her mouth to her neck. She let her head fall back, she let herself enjoy this moment and she ran her hands through his hair. Even though it looked a bit coarse, it felt silky smooth, just liek last time. Another rumble escaped his throat, louder now, more urgent, and his kisses intensified going from her neck back to her lips, searing and demanding.

She felt it then, that warmth or rather more heat, that she sometimes felt when she was alone and thinking of him. And then she felt something else as he rolled his hips and pressed them to her right thigh. Something hard. “Oh Sig.” He moaned into her mouth, and she froze. They shouldn’t be doing this, not now, not yet. It was what her da had said a couple of times if two people got married in a rush. Murmering how those men were _‘only thinking with their—‘._ He usually stopped there, and when she had once asked what men thought with, innocently curious if the whole body of men worked differently, he had turned brright red and mumbled something about _‘with what was between their legs’._  She had also turned red, having seen enough animals in springtime to know what her da meant, and had swiftly left the room to avoid any more awkwardness.

She had wondered back then why those couples hadn’t waited a bit, had thought such impatience rather odd, but now she knew. She also wanted to rub against him and feel more of him, hear her name moaned out more often. For a moment she did, for a moment she wanted to experience it. And it was glorious. He held her face between his large palms and kept kissing her, each kiss more demanding and heated than the previous, and he kept rubbing against her. When his left hand left her cheek and traveled down to her bottom softly massaging it and pressing her thigh to him harder, she knew they had to stop. They had to stop else everything would be ruined and her father would be shamed.

She pulled back and looked at him. Both of them were panting, but she saw Fili’s face crumble. “I’m so sorry, Sig.” He whispered. “I just—I forgot myself.”

She wanted him to know she felt the same, that she was not crossed with him so she softly placed another kiss, this time with her lips closed, on his mouth. He stood up straight and rearranged his trousers. “Your carriage will be arriving soon. Will you permit me to escort you there?”

She nodded, happy that he wasn’t pressing her further. Some of her friends had told her stories about how boys would get upset if girls did not want to do what they wanted. They would hiss foul words at them and shame them with nasty gossip with their friends.

When they arrived at the front gate, there was indeed a carriage waiting. “Will you write to me about what you want to change in our apartment?” He asked as he had helped her in and had kissed her hand.


	12. Gold

The next late afternoon a messenger from Dale came. The man was escorted by two Ereborian guards to Fili’s chambers where he handed over the parchment that bore Bard’s waxed seal. Instead of leaving, the man remainded in position his back straight and his arms stiffly by his side. “I am to wait your reply.” He said in a gruff tone.

His interest peaked ny the standfastness of the man, usually people from Dale were a lot more polite, Fili broke the seal and read the message.

_To: Fili, prince of Erebor_

_From: Bard, king of Dale_

_Fili,_

_I request your presence forthwith to discuss pressing matters._

_Bard, king of Dale_

So his soon-to-be father in law wanted to see him as soon as possible. Fili wondered what it was about. Had Bard somehow found out what had happened yesterday? Had he overwhelmed Sigrid so that she had complained to her father? Or was this perhaps a way to get to know eachother better?

Whatever this was about, Fili knew he had to make sure he did no take a fool of himself. So, as the Dale messenger was waiting, still flanked by the guards, he walked to the cupboard in his bedroom and rummaged around the top drawer, looking for a box that had been waiting there for a long time. When he finally found the intricately carved small wooden thing, he opened it.

Safely tucked into a swatch of the softest silk, a simple but elegant ring was sitting. On top of it was one single starlight gem. For most dwarves it would have been a far too plain wedding gift and his suit would be turned away. But Fili knew that Sigrid would not like something large or ornamental. So instead of showing his feelings in many stones and swirls of gold, he had chosen to show them in the mythril of which the band was made and in the finest starlight gem he had seen. Perfectly flawless and white, and around three carat. It would be perfect on her finger, he knew. Big enough to show her position, but nothing to gaudy.

He pocketed the box and followed the messenger after his pony had been brought.

 

X-O-X-O

 

A servant girl led him into the sitting room, where Bard was already waiting for him. To his disappointment though, Sigrid was nowhere to be seen.

“She’s helping in the school.  Bard said as a greeting as he saw Fili looking around. “Have a seat.”

It had taken quite an effort to keep up with the messenger, and Fili had hoped for something to drink. But as Bard dismissed the servant, he knew his hopes would not be fulfilled.

“I am quite a patient man, Fili” Bard started in a serious tone Fili had rarely heard from him. “And of course I know that that particular trait is not something that can be attributed to your uncle. I had hoped you would be though.” Fili swallowed, audibly. “When she came home last night, Sigrid’s hair was rather out of place. Would you know how that has come to be?”

It remained silent, so Fili ascertained it was not a rhetorical question, as it would have been with his uncle. “Well, eeerrrr” he stammered. “We—I mean—I.” He sighed trying to regain his composure. This was unbecoming of a dwaren prince; he did something so he should take responsability for it. “I kissed her, but I swear nothing else untowards has happened.”

Bard nodded. “I assume you did not do such a thing in front of your family, Fili, so I wonder if you took her somewhere private with the intention of doing a lot more.”

Fili almost jumped up from the sofa in agitation to prove Bard wrong. “No!” He nearly yelled. “I took her to my apartment to show her her future home and ask her if she wanted something changed!”

Bard nodded again. “it will not happen again, do you understand me Fili?”

He nodded, and then Bard sighed again. “it is not that I don’t understand. It is just--. It’s the fact that your uncle has included a virginity clause in the marriage contract. I will not have my daughter’s name shamed and dragged through the mud. And I know my daughter, she has never shown any interest in boys, so should anything be out of order, I know who to blame, understood?”

Fili nodded again, now looking at his hands.

“About your apartment” Bard continued. “You know Sigrid is a selfless girl, always thinking of others before herself.”

Fili nodded. He knew that his apartment was not what Sigrid wanted, but she had not yet said anything he could actually do something about. In fact, all she had said that the rooms looked lovely.

“A mountain is a dark place. I am sure you are used to it, but my Sigrid is not.”

“I have noticed that perhaps not everything is as she likes it and I have asked her to write to me what she would liked changed.”

As Fili became more and more uncomfortable, sitting perched on the edge of the sofa, Bard became more and more relaxed. He knew Sigrid’s father was playing a little game with him, but he had no desire whatsoever to be difficult.

“I have not yet been informed what your courting traditions are, Fili. I hope you’ll tell me.”

The constant use of his first name was slightly jarring, done only to show him who was in charge at the moment. He knew he deserved it.

“Well, as my aunt has succesfully given birth to two sons, we can now set the wedding date. It will be around six months or so. Between now and then I will present Sigrid with seven gifts, of which the housing is one. If they are not to her taste, she may ask me to give her something better or she may refuse but that will end our courtship.”

He was a bit out of breath after that explanation and a silence fell between the men untill Bard scraped his throat. “You know very well of my Sig’s modest nature. I will ascertain if the gifts are good enough for her.”

Fili took the box out of his pocket and put it on the coffeetable between them, pushing it towards Bard. The king of Dale took it with a glance at Fili and then opened it.

“It is not as I expected.” He remarked his eyes still on the ring. “but it seems you already know her taste. Silver?”

Fili wanted to burst out in laughter. A prince of Erebor giving silver as a wedding gift. “Mythril. With a flawless starlight gem.”

Bard finally looked up “Will this get us in trouble with Thranduil?” he asked in a doubtful tone.

Fili scoffed and then shook his head. “The deal with Thranduil was made; he got his necklace back. The rest is ours, he has no claim to it anymore.

With a ‘click’ Bard closed the little box and then put it in the middle of the table. “It is a very fine gift. Don’t be discouraged if she seems hesitant to accept it.” Fili took back the ring and put it in his pocket. “Sigrid will bring some some small household goods and linnens and such.”Bard said, and suddenly the mood changed, and Bard looked as if he was fighting to hold back his emotions. “I am very well aware that the worth of them will be nothing in comparison to what you probably already have, but she has worked on them ever since she could hold a needle.”

“You misjudge me, Bard. Do you think me so low to judge Sigrid on what goods she brings? Do you think me so honourless?”

Suddenly Bard slammed his fist on the table.  “No! I think you too foolish to see what marrying you and living in that mountain will do to _my_ daughter!” he yelled and as suddenly as his anger had come, so swiftly he calmed down, surprised by his own outburst.  “Sigrid is kind and gentle in nature. Modest, hard working without a selfish bone in her body. She will try to please you without complaint, and she will wither away in that stony darkness untill there is nothing left of her.”

“Then I will make her a better house, one that will be home for her.”

Bard scoffed. “And your family? Your uncle? Will they treat her as we do, as I do? Or will the scandals that surround the line of Durin also befall her? Will you suddenly also turn out to have a child born on the wrong side of the blanket?  Or will I one day find my daughter’s face bruised?”

Bard’s remarks cut right through Fili’s soul. How could Bard think such a thing of him. But they also hit the center of Fili’s own doubts, doubts he had mulled over night after night. Would Sigrid be able to get used to the mountain? He knew it had been very hard for Tauriel but the she-elf had no home to go to, nowhere to run to, as Thranduil had been less than pleased with how events had transpired. Would she have gone back if she had the option? Would Sigrid leave after a while, the stone to heavy for her? Should he be even asking of her to try?

“Because if I ever find out that Sigrid is unhappy I swear to you—“ Without listening to what else Bard had to say he got up and put the ring back on the table before leaving the palace and riding back towards Erebor.


	13. Auburn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Getting closer and closer to the end!   
> I really like hearing what you all think of the story, so I hope you'll keep on commenting!

When she and Tilda came home she found her da in the sitting room, staring at a little wooden box with a look on his face she had not seen since the day he had come into her room to tell her her mam was no longer with them. She looked back and forth between the box and Bard before she decided to open it. Carefully she pulled up the lid, and then she saw it. It was marvelous; not too big and certainly not too small. She wanted to try it on and looked at her father for some kind of signal she could. He looked back at her, and then she realised it: something had gone terribly wrong here.

“What did you do, da?” She whispered.

By the time he tried to explain _why_ he had said what he had said to Fili, Sigrid ran out of the house with several loud sobs. She had wanted to go to her bedroom, bolt the door and just sob into her pillow, but she doubted if she would ever see Fili again if she did not try to fix this right now.

And so it came to be that the princess of Dale rode her auburn horse over the plains as if she was being followed by Sauron himself. Her hair flew out of her braid and her light jacket flapped in the wind. Yet she did not stop, she kept pushing her horse with heels pressed into its flanks as she desperately tried to wipe the tears from her cheeks.

“Sigrid!” She suddenly heard as she passed a patch of green around a pinetree. The horse, startled by someone suddenly standing close to their path, nearly reared back, and she had to hold on to its neck with all her strength, her eyes closed tightly. She heard her name again, closer now, and she felt the horse being calmed.

And there he was, holding on to the reigns and taking her hand to help her off. She did not understand how she could have missed him and his pony, but then she had had only eye for the entrance to Erebor.

“Fili” she whispered as her feet touched the ground. “Fili you must understand, my da –“

He pulled her into an embrace, and the shushing in his low tone calmed her down. “It will all be fine, ghivashel.”

Together they sat down, his back against the tree and she leaning her back against his chest. “Your father is not happy.” Fili finally said, and she was relieved he did, as she was still looking for the right words.

“He is worried.” She acquiested. Sigrid felt Fili sigh, his chest expanding and letting out a gust of air as he breathed out. “Should I be worried, Sig?”

“No” she immediately blurted out, only then taking the time to think about her answer. “He overreacts. He asked me what I thought about Erebor, and I told him that your apartment is perhaps sometimes, when the weather is not too bright, a little dark. And now he thinks I shall shrink away like a plant without water.”

She felt Fili snort out, though she could not see whether it was in annoyance or amusement.

“From the moment we retook Erebor it was either my brother and I or just me living there. I never took the time or had the interest to make it into a home. If I wanted that I would go to my mother’s apartment.” He softly ran his hands up and down her upper arms. “That is why I asked you to come there yesterday, so you could see what you would like to change.”

Sigrid leaned her head back on his shoulder. “I do not mind, as long as you’re happy.”

This statement evoked another snort from Fili, this time clearly in amusement. “That’s exactly what your father said you would say. The problem is however, that I also not mind. So we’ll forever be acting ever so politely to eachother, and never coming to a decision.”

As she looked back at her fiancée’s face he smiled. “It will be your house soon, as it is part of the wedding gifts, so you’ll tell me now what you want or your father will disapprove and we’ll never get married.” He let out an exaggerated sigh. “What a tragedy that would be, forever pining for eachother all because you were too shy to tell me your preference for sofas.”

Sigrid could not help but giggle. A terrible, girly giggle that she couldnt stop for quite some time.

“If we want to be married, Sig, and if we want to be happy in this marriage, I need you to tell me the truth, I need you to tell me how you feel and what you want without constantly thinking what I might think about it. Can you do that?”

She sobered and nodded. “I will be happy by your side, that is all I want.”

Fili crooked an eyebrow. “If you are going to live in Erebor, you have to learn to strive a little higher than that.” He said with a smile. “So if we are married and you have me by your side, then what is needed to make you feel at home?”

Half an hour later Fili regretted that question somewhat, as he heard Sigrid speak of colours he hadn’t even heard of, and he was fairly certain there would be doilies in his chambers, as that hobbit they met at the beginning of their quest had had.

Sigrid didn’t notice it as she somehow kept going and going about what she liked in a house, and Fili agreed with it all. It was an exciting prospect being able to have her house exactly as she liked without her da talking about budget or having to think of Bain and Tilda ruining nice things.

And so they sat in between their respective cities, a prince and a princess that were just a man and a woman then and there.


	14. Purple

The six months that had seemed like and eternity before had now gone by in what seemed like a single breath of air. There were a million things to do, thousands of little details that asked for an unreasonable amount of attention. Attention he didn’t really have to spare, as his normal duties continued as they always had, if not more demanding as his uncle tried to spend more time with his new family and Fili had to step in for him more.

As he looked around his bedchamber, he felt warmth spreading in his chest. A few weeks ago Sigrid had brought several builders from Dale, and now his walls were adorned with paper decorated with flowers and a yellow background. She had done the same for every private room in their apartment, leaving only the rooms in which they would receive guests in their original state. Well, as original as they could be when there were doilies on the sofas. She had explained that, it would protect the fabric against the oils that people put in their hair.

But the biggest change was that she had added a kitchen to their apartment. Fili himself would never have thought of such a thing. Why cook if they could just go to the dining hall for their meals or have servants bring them what they liked? But Sigrid said she liked cooking, and liked sometimes eating by themselves.

Rationally speaking he had some doubts about the changes. If they ate by themselves too often, their absence would be noticed and many would not take kindly to it. And protecting the fabric of sofas against oils? What oils? And protecting fabric with more fabric, only with holes in it? And then the paper on the walls. All he had to say about that was that it matched the curtains she had hung in front of the newly carved out windows. He would never be able to sleep in anymore; the curtains were too thin to shield them from the sunlight so he would wake up early every morning.  But when he had seen Sigrid smile, a smile that made her eyes shine, he didn’t mind about it all. Her smile made up for every decoration she had put in.

As his mind wandered, he realised he was going to be late to his own party. The wedding was tomorrow and Kili had of course insisted on organizing a night in their favourite tavern to say goodbye to his life as an unmarried man. He was feeling a bit restless about the whole thing. It would be fun no doubt, a last night to remember how life used to be, before all eyes were on them, before their tasks had become obligations instead of fulfillment. But he couldn’t help but feel a little trepidation over whom his brother had invited.

He shook the melancholy off and quickly redid one of his moustache braids before walking out of the door and down the many stairs to the lower levels. As he passed the door to Kili’s chambers he heard soft giggles, muffled by the thick wooden door. He knew Sigrid was there with her friends and Tauriel, whom had offered to host the evening. Would they also have a lot of drinks, brought to them by handsome servants perhaps? As he felt a sting of jealousy piercing his chest he knew he had to continue on his path to avoid spending his last night alone with his fiancée; wouldn’t that be a joke.

X-O-X-O

 

Kili had set up everything nicely. He had rented the whole tavern and the tables were already laden with ale and mead. As he was a little late, most guests had also already arrived. And those guests seemed to include all the nobles of Erebor and all of Fili and Kili’s friends.

As he sat down on one of the only two available chairs, he looked at his brother. “Well, you’ve made it a rather large affair, Kee.” He said.

“That’s what she said!” Kili yelled out just as their uncle walked in, sitting next to him. Fortunately his uncle seemed to be in a good mood, as he grinned along. Fili still remembered the first time his brother made that joke. They were around 35 and had guarded a caravan as it rode from their village in the Blue Mountains to Bree. Fili had just spent 5 years in the Iron Hills, fostered with Dain, and Kili was leaving in a month or so. Normally they were supposed to train with their uncle, but Fili’s journey back home and the harsh winter had caused them to be a little short on money. Even Thorin had been forced to admit that, so they were allowed to go and make some extra coin.

As they rested in an inn north of the far Downs, Kili was flirting a bit with one of the tavern wenches, and not much later they disappeared into the room they rented. Too bad for Fili he was sharing a room with Kili, meaning that he spent the night sleeping on one of the benches against the wall of the rather dingy tavern. The next morning they rode further, and in an attempt to make Kili stop voicing all the things he thought of the rather pretty girl, Fili commented on the hight of the trees, saying how large they were. Kili looked straight at him, waggled his eyebrows and whispered: “That’s what she said.” Back then, due to a lack of sleep and the lack of a female of his own, Fili had not tought it especially funny. But the joke had stuck and now even uncle Thorin could appreciate the comedic value of it.

Thorin’s arrival, his own or the loud laughter had caused the bar maids to start bringing out more drinks and food. Fili knew them al by name and also knew which ones were actual barmaids and which ones brought drinks as a way to get to know new customers. As he looked at them walking around, talking and, in some cases, cleverly avoiding the hands of customers, Thorin looked at him with a crooked eyebrow.

“Weren’t you supposed to get married tomorrow?”

Like his uncle should be the one to comment on that! He had lived with his consort for a month _after_ he got married! And he and Dwalin were always the ones to organize the afterparties for Durin’s Day. But this was not the night to say such things, so he quipped something about getting hungry outside and eating at home. His brother seemed to find it hilarious while Thorin looked surprised.

Fili fell back into his thoughts. He hadn’t been looking at the women for the way they looked, but to see how they acted. But would there come a day that he would want to look at other women again? He knew Kee did not mind such a view, but he also knew that, even though his brother was not one to admit such a thing, that he was completely devoted to Tauriel.

Suddenly one of the girls approached his uncle and whispered something in his ear. A silence spread throughout the room everyone, discretely or not, staring at the king. But instead of Thorin whispering back and perhaps laying his hand on the girl, as Fili would have expected, his uncle jumped up fro his seat.

“Room on the royal lap?! Has some sort of a disease taken hold of your mind, talking to your king like that?!”

As Thorin barged out of the room Fili, as many others couldn’t help but burst into oud laughter. Kili was actually wiping the tears from his face his face bear and as slowly turning purple in his mirth.


	15. Azure

She had not slept all night, knowing this was the last night she would sleep in this bed, under her da’s roof. So now that she was sitting in front of the mirror, maids running in and out, all she could see were the massive purple circles under her eyes.

“Don’t worry princess, we’ll get you looking as if you were fourtheen again.” The maid that had made the remark put an encouraging hand on her shoulder and smiled kindly.

“It won’t be her face he’ll be looking at!” Another one yelled, and it seemed as if some kind of dam had broken by that remark. Suddenly all the women flocked around Sigrid and started giving advice, rather unsollicited. Her da had asked her to sit with him a couple of nights ago, and had handed her a cup of tea. There had been an air of awkwardness from the beginning, though she initially hadn’t been sure why. Untill her da started talking; then she had wanted to be swallowed by the earth intself more than anything else.

_“Well, ahum, Sig, you know, if two people love eachother, and they get married, then, you know, they consumate the marriage.” Her face had frozen, and she had wanted to yell at him to shut up but no sound came out of her throat. “As your mam is no longer with us, I believe it is important that you know what will happen between you and Fili.” By that time da had also turned bright red, but she saw that little wrinkle between his eyebrows he always got when he was determined to finish something, so she knew he would not stop. “When a man likes, eeerrr, loves a woman, his body reacts to that. The parts that make him a male will –ahum- grow harder. If the woman also like the man, he will, you know, put those parts inside of her. He will move them back and forth for a while and then he reaches –well- the whole things ends. And that is how women get pregnant. But the thing is, the first time may be rather uncomfortable for the woman and she should, well, what I mean to say is—“ Her da sighed and Sigrid was still petrified. “What I mean to say is that you should tell Fili if he does something you don’t like or if you feel uncomfortable.”_

She had nearly run from the room after that, only giving her da a nod to show him she understood. But now that she looked back on it, and heard the crass things the maids were all saying, she knew he had only meant well, had only wanted to prepare her for what was to come as well as he could.

“You should make sure he doesn’t drink too much, m’lady.” One of them said as she nodded fervently. “Aye, especially a dwarf.” Another added. “I’ve heard that even though their bodies are short, one part of them is rather long and wide!” Hilarity ensued, but Sigrid was just baffled.

“Long, and wide?” She asked, and the maids seemed to get that their princess was lacking a bit of knowledge on this particular topic.

The oldes of them, a stout woman with grey curls came to stand next to her. “No experience, m’lady?” She asked, and her face scrunched a bit when Sigrid shook her head in denial. “Calm down, ladies.” She yelled at everyone. “The princess does not need you all frightening her!”

They all stood closer, but more quiet now. “Just make sure he prepares you.” The older woman continued. “Puts you in the mood and all. Gets you nice and wet.”

Would there be some liquid involved? A bath perhaps? It was all just really confusing, and while her make up was applied and her hair done, Sigrid started to worry that she would terribly disappoint Fili.

 

X-O-X-O

 

As she walked down the stairs, her da was waiting at the bottom, looking up at her. Bain and Tilda had already gone ahead, and apart from the servants, they were home alone.

“You look wonderful, Sig.” Her da said as he rubbed his cheek.

He offered his arm and took her to the carriage. When they were finally seated, her dress causing rather a fuss, Bard looked at his daughter. “Are you sure?” he asked, a hint of worry in his eyes. When Sigrid happily nodded he knocked the side of the carriage as a sign they could depart.

Sigrid had expected a quick ride, but when they turned onto the street, she saw that nearly all of Dale had come out, standing on the sides of the street under the azure sky and cheering and waving at her. In a daze she waved back, wondering how come all of these people were here, for her wedding.

Looking around, she saw that not only was the whole city out, the streets had been decorated with flags and flowers and streamers everywhere. “Dale will always be your city, Sig, and you will always be welcome here, just know that.” Her da whispered when he saw her looking around. “I, your siblings, the citizens of Dale, we’ll always be here for you.”

She could not say anything, her throat closed by the surge of emotions that flew through her. But she had to smile, as they had arrived and she had to get out of the carriage and walk to her husband.

 

X-O-X-O

 

The rest of the day went by in a blur of events, people and conversations. She did not know how she had gotten through it all, how she had managed to say the things she was supposed to say, smile at the right moments. But now she was sitting here, next to her husband, two seats removed from king Thorin and looked at by everyone that was anyone in Erebor and Dale. All she wanted was to go back to that moment in the carriage and hug her da, thank him for everything he had done for her. Before she and Fili left the party. And then Sigrid swallowed thickly. In not too much time she and Fili would go to his –their-  apartment. And be alone. In his bed.

Would it be like the royal weddings of old? Would she be looked at and touched by other men as they brought her to the bedroom? Sigrid started to sweat and she found it hard to breathe. She saw Fili looking at her with worry in his eyes, as she felt her da’s gaze on her.

With a murmured ‘excuse me’ she got up and asked Emma if she might sit on the empty seat next to her. The queen agreed, of course she did, for some reason Emma was always very kind to her. Sigrid needed a moment to compose herself, to gather her thoughts as to not make an absolute fool of herself. And then she dared to ask what would be happening tonight. She held her breath when Emma asked king Thorin something, and then again, and again, and the king started to look annoyed. But nothing bad happened.

It turned out it was nothing as terrible as she had thought. There would be someone in the room adjoining the bedroom but nothing more than that. No one would do something she didn’t want to, she had to believe that. But what if she did something Fili didn’t like? What if he would find her to be a disappointment? Too tall perhaps, or too skinny. Or too clumsy. Ugly, human, shy, forward, plain. There were so many things she worried could disappoint him.


	16. White

Sigrid had looked like a startled deer ever since the third of fourth course of dinner, and it seemed to be getting worse throughout the evening. Perhaps it was the ruckass their guests made, Fili thought, or maybe she still found the Ereborian royal family  a bit intimidating. No matter what it was, it brought him on edge, being unable to calm her down not matter how hard he gripped her hand or how softly he stroked it. She seemed to have calmed a bit after talking to Emma, but not for long.

So they left as soon as it was proper, walking through the empty hallways together, the echo of their footsteps joined with those of his uncle and Emma a little behind them. It was thoughtful of them not to make their presence too obvious, but perhaps it was also for their benefit. He knew how his uncle loathed the tradition of the wedding night, and he almost chuckled as he remembered how Thorin had squirmed his way out of having to be in Kili’s chambers for it. To Fili he had made it seem as if he didn’t want to be the witness because he knew it would all be poppycock, but he knew his uncle just did not want to intrude on other people’s private lives in such a way. He believed it archaic and unnecessary. For a brief moment he wondered how it must have been like for his uncle. He remembered how Balin had been fretting over who should be present to take the sheets to the council. Discussions had taken place, suggestions of Fili or Balin standing in for a father and grandfather that never even knew of the love their son and grandson held for Emma. But in the end those ideas were rejected, the thought of one of them acting as if they had a higher position than Thorin had seemed near treasonous to some. Instead, a lowly servant was granted the ‘honour’, as he would never be mistaken for having a position higher than the king of Erebor, and after that decision had been made, his uncle had refused to speak about it.

Fili swallowed thickly as reality really started to dawn on him: there would be people on the other side of his bedroomdoor specifically there to hear him deflower his bride. Not an enticing thought, he had to admit to himself, and not one that had entered his head before. But before he could fall into useless worry, they arrived at his apartment. Thankfully his uncle did not have some last words or something; him and Emma just followed into the antechamber quietly and did as little as possible to draw attention to themselves.

And then they were alone, the bedroomdoor closed behind them and the sounds of the rest of the world banned. Sigrid looked more worried than ever, and carefully he went to stand behind her, his fingers softly running over her bare shoulders.

“Would you like me to help you get your hair down?” He whispered, and his suggestion was met with a short jerk of her head, which he decided to interpret as a nod.

He fiddled with the many hidden clasps and pins, but in the end her wavy locks fell freely over her back. When she did not move after that, he slowly began to loosen the ties that held the back of her dress together. He was sure there was some fancier term for those strings, but at that moment he could not find the word for it. it did not much matter anyway, not when her dress fell to the ground and she stood before him in just her shift.

Normally he would relish in the sight, as he had been waiting for it for quite a while. But he saw her shivering and trying to cover herself up with her arms over her chest, and he knew she did not quite feel the same. So he led her to the bed and held up the blankets for her to lie under before settling down next to her.

“Do you know what we’re about to do, Sigrid?” He asked softly, not quite sure if anyone had ever told her, seeing how she lost her mother at a young age.

His bride nodded nervously. “Things—eeerm—go in—you know—things—“

He softly kissed her, trying to hold back his laughter over her somewhat vague description. As he felt the softness of her lips, his hands started to wander, feeling the curves of her waist and hips, nearly grasping at the roundness of her chest.

He started to feel restrained in his own clothing, and hurriedly he sat up and wurmed and wiggled himself out of it untill he wore nothing but his underpants. When he slowly also took those off, he saw Sigrid’s eyes widen. At first he was a bit flattered, but then she nearly yelled out:  “All of that?”, and he knew that tonight wasn’t the right night to get to know eachother in a more intimate way, no matter how much he wanted it.

He lied down again and pulled her tightly to his chest, his nose nuzzling in her hair. “Not now, not yet.” He whispered, and he felt her relax a bit. It proved it was the right choice, but now he had his uncle to worry about.

He knew he would have to show a sheet, there was not a single valid reason not to do so without costing Bard a lot of money. But he would not force his bride, he would not start his marriage with doing something she did not want to. Especially not after the rumours that had spread about his uncle and Emma and their wedding night; he would sooner die than do the same to Sigrid.

So he asked her to stand next to the bed for a moment, and then took a letter opener and cut into his own hand, smearing the blood on the right places on the sheets, remembering from Kili’s wedding night how it had to be done.

During all this, Sigrid had been staring at him open mouthed, and she did not move a muscle untill he had folded the sheet and handed into his uncle.

After that, he crawled back under the sheets and held them up as a clear invitation for her to join him again.

X-O-X-O

 

They woke in the morning, cuddled up to eachother, her head leaning on his arm and her leg over his hip. In that position he found himself to have hardened during his sleep to an almost unbearable point, and his current view would do nothing to relieve that ache. With her leg over his, her slip had slid up, which made her bridal lingerie visible. Snow white, very small, panties that hugged the curve of her bottom in such a way he wanted to run his tongue all along the edge of it.

When he shifted a bit in an attempt to keep his erection from pressing into her, he felt her nipples against his chest, a little hard, as if she were cold or aroused, and a gust of air left him as if he had been punched in the stomach.


	17. Red

When Fili was about to curse Mahal for putting him in this situation, Sigrid also woke, lazily opening her eyes and stretching a bit. Only then did she become aware of him, and with shame she remembered the night before.

She had not done her duty, but instead deprived him of his rights by acting so childish. She was twenty, for Valar’s sake, she should be able to cope with the size of a male’s _thing_ , especially after a whole group of maids had talked about it, rather detailed!

He did not seem angry or upset though, and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead while murmering ‘goodmorning’. She looked up at him, and then down, between their bodies. It was there again, and when she looked back up at him, she saw red spots blushing on his cheeks.

But now was not the time to pull back, she told herself, and slowly she brought her lips to his, kissing him as they had done so many times. It was those stolen moments she thought back on, the moments when she was happy it was just the two of them instead of being afraid of it.

“You don’t have to, Sig.” He murmered between two kisses, but his voice betrayed  how much he wanted it.

“I’m not afraid anymore, Fili.” She murmered back. “I’m not afraid with you.”

He softly pushed her so she was lying on her back, him half laying over her. His hand slowly stroked her side, and fiddled with the tie that held her nightgown closed. When after a minute he was still trying to untie the knot, she giggled, evoking several huffs of amusement from him, and pulled the tie herself.

The gown fell open, and with a groan he leaned his forehead on her chest. “I think I’m about to die, love. My heart can’t take this!” he groaned, and then it was just as before; light, airy and without obligations.

She took his hand and placed it on her breast, looking at him to see if that was what he wanted. He started caressing the sensitive skin softly, and she could not believe those big, rough hands could be so gentle. He looked back and then kissed her again. “Tell me if I do something you don’t want, Sig.” He whispered, and she nodded.

But then he withdrew his lips from hers, and looked at her more seriously. “Promise you’ll tell me. I want this—I want this to be good for you.”

“I promise” She whispered, and only then he returned to kissing her, his hand still stroking her breast, though now his fingers closed around her nipples. It was something she had never felt before; of course she knew men liked breasts, but for her they had only ever been for feeding children. Yet now she understood that the body was more that just parts thrown together with a clear, practical function. His hand roamed to her belly, and for a moment she was distracted, thinking of what he could do with that.

“Do you not want me to do this?” Fili immediately asked, showing her how much he was concentrating on her and her reactions to his actions.

“I do, I just—“ she started, but she was interupted by his need for her to express herself, asking her what she wanted.

“You’ll laugh at me.” She said shyly, but he shook his head. “Never” he vowed.

“I was thinking about how our body is more that just functionality.” She avoided looking at him, not wanting to see his mocking. But he didn’t. Just as he had promised, he didn’t laugh at her. Instead he looked like a cat that fell into a creamjar. “They certainly aren’t” he said in a raspy voice, and then his lips went from her lips to her neck, giving her the opportunity to run her hands through his golden hair, hair she had wanted to touch so many times, but he had refused.

Now that she could finally really touch it, she understood why he hadn’t let her do it more before. When she pulled a little, his head fell back and he groaned loudly. On top of that, she felt definite twitching against her leg, and she thought that if _it_ went up when a man was in a certain mood, more moving was good, right?

“It would be best to wait with that a bit, love, or this morning will be over rather prematurely.” He groaned, and quickly she released him, though she wondered what he meant with ‘prematurely over’.

Fili must have seen her confusion, because he came back to her eyelevel again and looked at her. “Do you know what we’re going to do?” he asked, even though he had already asked her the same last night, seemingly genuinely interested.

With a deep sigh she got over her embarassment, after all, now was hardly the time, almost naked with him pressed against her. She nodded with a mall frown. “Aye. The maids said it will be like the cows do. Only you’ll lie on top of me and then put your—eeerm—your , you know—“

Her husband chuckled. “My what, dear Sigrid? My foot?” When she giggled and shook her head, cheeks red, he nudged his nose against her cheek. “How would you like to call it then? Penis? Cock? Dick?”

All those names made her blush, thinking back on the crude jokes she sometimes overheard when the fisherman talked together. “Your _thing”_   she burst out, evoking another smile from him.

“Alright, my _thing_ ” he mocked, but then he looked more serious. “But putting my _thing_ inside of you is not all, love, there’s a lot before that. Anyway, when I put my _thing_ inside of you and move, hopefully bringing you pleasure, I’ll find pleasure, and when I do, I won’t be able to for a while. But when you play with my hair like that, there’s quite a risk that I find my pleasure before we’ve done anything.”

The question immediately arose: what came before he went inside of her? And as she was already so embarrassed it could not get any worse, she just asked them.

“What comes before, I’ll show you.” He said, and with a devious smile he sucked at her nipple.

At first it was strange, him suckling like a babe, but then she felt it: a rush of lightening starting in her nipple en going right to between her legs. She wasn’t unfamiliar with the feeling between her legs, she had felt it when they kissed, and when she was in bed at night, but it had never been so strong as it was now. And she had never felt such a strong urgency to so something about it, to touch and feel and relieve an ache she didn’t know how to soothe.

Fili seemed to know, as he softly put his hand between her legs, his palm against her sex, moving it really slowly. Without consciously thinking about it, she tilted her hips up and down, moving against the rough surface that suddenly brought so much pleasure.

Sigrid looked up at him, uncertain of what they were doing. He noticed, of course he noticed, he looked at her so intendly. “It is all part of it, love. Just enjoy, do what feels good.” Fili spurred her on, and then removed his palm, only to bring back one finger. But that finger seemed to find the exact place where her need was greatest, and she let out a keening sound.

He stopped sucking and licking her nipple, and for a moment she thought she had done something wrong, offended him with her noise, but then he trailed down, rather swiftly, and kissed her hipbones. His hands held her nightgown. “Take it off, azyungal.” He whispered, and immediately she did as asked, sitting up and nearly ripping the fabric of her gown and panties off. The urgent feeling between her legs had only grown stronger, and she would do anything to continue.

As she laid back down, she got exactly what she wanted, though she had not known she wanted it. Instead of continueing to move his finger, Fili brought his lips there, kissing her as he did to her mouth. She wanted to protest, but it was glorious, too good to ever let stop. He licked and he kissed and brought her to a point she felt like standing on a cliff, ready to fall off. Except for that last step, she didn’t seem to get there. No matter how good it felt, she seemed unable to get tot the point she wanted, and she let out a frustrated groan.

“Relax, love, you’ll get there, we just need to find out what it is exactly you like.” She heard him say, and then his hand let go of her thigh and roamed up to her nipple, softly twisting and rubbing it. His other hand when a little down, drawing circles on what she thought was the place he would enter her. It was scary, but also tantalizing, and just what she needed. Then, with a soft cry, she finally fell.

It was as if stars exploded and her brain consisted just of cottonballs. It wasn’t untill Fili sat up again, his head slightly red with exertion, that she became aware of her surroundings again. She looked at him, suddenly a bit afraid.

He kissed her, and she tasted herself on his lips. “Slowly. We’ll go slowly and stop whenever you want.” He whispered, and she nodded.

It was then that she felt it, something blunt and simutaneously hard and soft pressing against her. It slid a bit further, and the feeling of being stretched started. Fili leaned his forehead against hers, panting, and looked at her again. Looking to see how she felt.

When he pushed further the feeling of being stretched slowly was replaced with a slight burning feeling. But he he pulled back and pushed in again, and it felt a bit better. She was relieved, hoping this had been the worst. But it wasn’t. When he stopped again, he softly pushed her forehead to hers again, looking straight into her eyes.

“I can do it quickly, so you won’t feel it for long, or slowly, so it hurts less but takes longer.” He whispered, and although she did not know exactly what _it_ was, she knew it was always best to have something bad over with quickly. “The first” she whispered, and put her hand on his shoulder while she left the other one around his waist, holding on to what felt like her rock in a storm. He nodded. “Try to relax, it will feel better that way.

And then suddenly he did it; he pushed forward with greater force and for a moment she felt like he had stuck a knife in her or something,  and she squeezed his shoulder tightly. But as he stopped moving, so did the pain, and she relaxed a little, just as he said she should.

“The worst is over, love. If you want, we can stop.”

If the worst was over, she knew she could do this, so she shook her head. Slowly, really slowly, he pushed further in. Fili had been right, it did not hurt so much as it had, especially now that he moved slower and kissed her again.

The kissing became more intense, and so did his movements. Although it still burned a bit, there was also a twinge of pleasure, of that lightening she had felt before. But then her concentration was broken, pulled towards the beautiful sight above her. Fili, her Fili, mumered her name louder and louder, more and more passionately and insistent. His eyes, normally blue, now seemed like burning coales.

After a groaned ‘Sigrid’, he stopped moving, only slightly rocking against her. They lay still for a couple of minutes, while he stroked her hair and pecked kisses on her lips. Then, with a groan, he got up and walked to the bathroom, to return with a wet towel. Instead of handing it to her, he ran it over her face, arms, chest, belly, legs and lastly between her legs. It felt refreshing, but she immediately missed the smell of him on her skin.

When he removed it from her sex, there were clear bloodstains on it, and he kissed her again. “I’m sorry” he whispered, but she just pulled him untill he lay next to her and she could curl up against him, safely in his arms.


	18. Rainbow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I've added four chapters today, so if you haven't read them before, go back to chapter 14!
> 
> This is just a little epilogue to end this story. Do you guys think I should do a third part to follow up with events in the main story? I'm leabing towards this being the end, but if you think I should write this to the very end, then perhaps I will :)

He had cried when she had told him, she had felt the tears on her shoulder as he hugged her, though he had quickly wiped them away when he looked at her again. And then he had softly kissed her stomach for what had seemed like hours. She had wondered if all men were like this or just a special few.

And now, as she was walking around the room supported by Tilda and Emma and Tauriel, while her body seemed to have wrestled itself free from her control and tormented her with pains she had never felt before, now that moans escaped her throat unwillingly and unwanted, she still felt safe in the knowledge that he was just on the other side of the door.

She  had wondered for years how it was possible for women to die during childbirth, how it had come to be that her mam had passed away. But when it was time for her child to be born, she finally understood. She had known pain and fear and a loss of willpower. But none of that could have prepared her for what she experienced in that moment. She felt like she would depart this world in any moment, but at the same time she felt very much alive. Even more when her son was finally born. When that tiny little boy was placed in her arms, his eyes scrunched shut, his mouth opening and closing, she had never felt stronger.

But when Fili came into the room, he looked like he had just given birth himself. His hair was a mess, his eyes bloodshot and with purple circles underneath. And then, with the greatest care, he put his arms around her and he cried again, though this time not quietly. This time he sobbed into her shoulder, all the while murmering Khuzdul in her ear. With her free hand she stroked his hair and she pressed a kiss on his ear, the only place she could reach.

“Look” she whispered. “Look at him, Fili.”

He did, for a long time he did, in wonder, awe and mesmerisation.

“What will we name him?” She whispered.

And then her husband frowned. “Thorin is not here.” He said “And Stone is still a baby.”

Sigrid wondered what those facts had anything to do with her child’s name. She had not wanted to think of a name before, had believed it to be bad luck as a name would give the vulnerable child growing inside of her an identity for evil to look for. But now she knew. Looking at the just opened eyes she felt like she was looking at her da, and the blond whisps of hair on the boy’s head were the exact copy of Fili’s. But it wasn’t her place. Her husband would name their child.

“I guess we can decide.” Fili said with a small smile. “What do you think, geyith?”

“Bali.” She whispered. “Bali son of Fili.”

 

X-O-X-O

 

Her da cried. He sat in the chair next to her bed with Bali in his left arm while he covered his eyes with his right hand. It made her want to smile and cry at the same time. Her da, whom had ever been strong and determinded, now cried. The other people in the room looked at him, some in endearment, some in astonishment, but he did not seem to mind.

Bard, formerly a bargeman and now king of Dale, had his first grandchild.


End file.
